Inseyshabal
by SynapticFirefly
Summary: Based on Anon prompt on Tumblr: 'Cartman wasn't careful what he wished for because Kyle's now a sex demon.' Here's how they got there.


Here was the problem with sexually repressed Jews. They're SEXUALLY REPRESSED. Like, they say old age is the number one cause of impotence, but have scientists ever done a study on Jewish mothers? They're the main cause for everyone's _(his)_ problems what with their bickering and bitchiness and…

…he was losing the script. Let's start over.

Let's say Eric Cartman was a fag. Easy enough. Let's even say he was unfortunate enough to acquire the Jew (not just any Jew but _the coveted_ one) who was extremely stunted sexually. It was the ass, man. His boyfriend has a real nice ass.

Now, let's not point fingers and laugh at his misfortune. It's not cool. Seriously.

And he was tired. Oh so very tired. You see, that's the problem. Sexually repressed Jews were ticking fuck bombs. As soon as you managed to squirrel one into bed, you have to go through the motions; the literal snip of the blue and red wires before they're ready to give in.

Kyle fucking squirmed. _A lot._ It was kind of hot the first time, but the sixth and seventh time got real tiring. It was a lot less 'rape fantasy' and more _'well shit, he doesn't seriously think it's rape does he?'_ kind of gist. Cartman knows what he wants. He knows where he wants those money-grubbing hands to go and get him singing like an overstuffed canary.

But Kyle didn'tknow what _Kyle_ wants. And when they start doing the nasty, it's a shitload of guesswork for poor Cartman. Kyle's not just repressed, he's got a hella long laundry list of problems to go with his _stunning_ moral character. He was also as stubborn as a Jewish grandmother holding up a long line at a grocery store. Because of course it wasn't _her_ fault that she didn't read the date on her expired coupon. Let the rest of the line suffer, why don't you?

Let's review here before he gets lost on another tangent. Kyle sucked, (and not in a good way), when it came to jaunty teen sex. Half the time Cartman was testing _everything_ \- from biting to fingering to even some spanking just to figure out what made Kyle ball-bust to the finish line.

It was a demented case of _red light/green light_ , and it was seriously starting to piss him off.

...then something finally gave because Kyle isn't a big dumb idiot. It somehow finally clicked that premarital sex wasn't a humiliating sin they taught you in church or temple or whatever, so Kyle starts putting the pieces together. He gained traction with his hips instead of his loud mouth and finally, _fucking finally_ , Cartman didn't feel like he was pulling the all slack on his own.

But this? This a real fucking problem. We're back to the whole repressed Jew thing in case you forgot. Because as soon as Kyle learned what he wanted, the fuck bomb blows and you're left wondering what the hell just happened.

At first it's gentle and tame. Cartman can do gentle - hell, he doesn't get enough credit for how gentle he can sometimes. It was the literal wine and grind to unwound Kyle from his mental chastity belt and learn to feel good about it.

Then one day, Kyle's conflicted green eyes suddenly lit up in epiphany. He'll never forget that moment. It was like seeing dinosaurs for the first time or finding that perfect video game that just sucks you in like an obsession.

But for Kyle it was different. It was almost scary. Instead of dinosaurs he straight up took a snort of sex crack and now he can't get enough of it. He was _obsessed_. He reached that other extreme on the sex-o-meter - one which _King Kenny_ tends to reign.

And that was cool. That was more than cool. Cartman always instigated the bumpin' lovin' 99% of the time and he enjoyed it. He loves cornering Kyle at just the right moment and catch his lips in a searing heat that gets him weak in the knees. He gets off shoving his hand straight into those ugly cowboy jeans to get a hold of that sweet kosher meat just so he could hear Kyle squeal.

Little by little, Kyle broke down. It's those tiny habits he starts picking up. A playful flick of his tongue against his well spent cock, the way he sinks kittenish teeth into his palm when Cartman forcefully covers his mouth, all of it was the sign of the end - or Cartman's end at least.

He found the Pandora's Box of Slutdom, and it was right beside the slumbering Jersey monster from within. Kyle's courage went from subtle action to blatant sexual indecency so fast it was almost overnight. Cartman did not anticipate that - and certainly was just not prepared for it.

It was like when that homeschooled bitch became a whore after one kiss back in the fourth grade - only this was much worse. Kyle had blossomed into a hellion of carnal proportions; a wild and untamed thing who went from keeping his staunch silence during a pounding to full on filthy mouth while he rode on Cartman's cock and begged for more.

At first, Cartman was ecstatic. Why wouldn't he? Nothing else changed about him outside of the bedroom. Kyle was still an arrogant know-it-all who bitched about Cartman and Kenny smoking and walked around with a stick up his ass half the time. He was still the Jew he had always been in love with.

But this… he seriously needed a break.

They've been going at it like wild animals consistently for the past two weeks and, believe it or not, Cartman has reached the bottom of his bottomless pit of lust. Fucking crazy, right? Sure, sex every day sounded awesome, but in practice?

Kyle just wouldn't let up.

This was why he was laying on the sheets tired and strangely compliant while Kyle sat and rode him hard and fast. His poor mattress squeaked in distress under them and Cartman was seriously contemplating whether he should start paying for his bed's therapy after this.

For the first time he's not getting off from the sex, not really. The only reason he hadn't gone soft from exhaustion was because Kyle hadn't broken eye contact. The burn of Kyle's green eyes and the way his ginger lover was panting like a whore for him was literally spank material at this point.

God, he was so fucking beautiful. But he'd never say that aloud.

Kyle decided he should roll his hips out in that freakishly slutty way that he had only seen in his dreams.

"...Jesus fucking Christ!" Cartman whined out hoarsely. He seriously wished he had the strength to do more.

Instead he dug strong fingers deep into Kyle's splayed white thighs and hoped it was kinky enough for Kyle not to encourage anything more from him. Mission accomplished. Kyle snapped his head back and let out a strangled cry that reminded him of an overzealous chick in a porno. Cartman came so quickly from that he was taken by surprise.

Brow furrowed, Kyle looked down and experimentally squirmed down on Cartman to feel - yes, yes he did. Kyle rolled his eyes and blissfully stilled. Cartman's oversensitive cock thanked him for it.

"Getting too wild for you, Cartman?"

"Lay off it, fucking Jew!" Cartman licked at the sweat sticking to his upper lip and shoved him off. That's it. Daddy's done, no more. "It's not my fault you need a cock in your ass every half hour. Christ, it's like fucking a cracked out whore."

Kyle rolled onto his side of the sheets with a plop, dissatisfied and irritated. "Whores get paid," he corrected him with a dull purr and lazily stroked his cock.

"My mistake, babe. You're a slut." Cartman turned away to rummage his bedside drawer for a cigarette. If he watched Kyle beat off, it might give his Jewish lover the incentive to get back on him again.

 _Jesus Christ._

When he flopped back against the pillows and lit up, Kyle had kept a steady glare at him. He was even _more intimidating_ with a palm around his cock. Picking his battles carefully, Cartman blew a long line of smoke towards the ceiling. It was like a old gay western porno: fingers twitching on cock, smoke hanging in the air, and him without his cowboy hat.

He suffered the image of Kyle bare assed in leather chaps and tried not to wince.

"Am I really becoming a slut?" Kyle wondered aloud, his hand stilling. Cartman's daydreaming ended.

There's that sexual repression kicking in. It was fascinating to watch Kyle try to convince himself otherwise. Those righteous and morally centered gears were starting to snap together and work through the haze of lust now that Kyle's self-doubt was lubing them up.

The sexual standoff was over, but Cartman didn't feel like he won. He did enjoy watching Kyle's endless cycle of moving two steps back to start anew for a new path. It always made interacting with him so goddamn interesting. Nothing about Kyle was ever boring.

But he'd be damned if he'd let Kyle try that shit on their own relationship, even if he has to suffer with the over-stimulation every fucking night.

Cartman tapped out the cigarette on the ashtray nearby and collected his lover in a lazy embrace. He didn't do cuddling, no matter how appealing it would be in practice. He was still too afraid of giving in and letting Kyle have the more sensitive parts of him.

Which was why he was doing it now. If Kyle started second guessing them, then it was already over. That's the problem with a naturally manipulated mind being weighed down by, you guessed it, a meddlesome bitch of a mother.

Cartman invaded Kyle's mouth with his tongue and it successfully short-circuited those thoughts. He could feel Kyle stiffen and then offer this kind of half-moan, half-sigh that tasted like defeat - and that was the _real_ victory for Cartman. He'll lick his way into every part of Kyle's greedy mouth and break everything down until Kyle's head was out of the clouds and between Cartman's legs where he belonged.

Metaphorically of course. He was still tired as shit.

"Yeah you're a slut," he purred with every lewd slide of his tongue against Kyle's. "My slut." Because goddamn, he loved Kyle like this - so perfect and loving his dick like God intended.

It was just a fucking stamina problem. Maybe he should start losing weight to help with the slack. He was pretty sure he lost like ten pounds from the last marathon of sex, but he wasn't sure. They didn't have a scale in the house out of his own self-delusions so he had to rely on how his jeans fit.

They hung a bit loosely around his hips earlier today before Kyle tore them off. Shit.

Kyle slid his hands up his stomach. There's hesitance. He's second-guessing again. Cartman sighed and played with Kyle's neglected cock until those green eyes switch back on to Jersey mode. It didn't take too long. Kyle humped into his hand with newfound stamina and god fucking dammit Cartman really needs to lose weight or something one day so he could play catch up.

Until then, this was the best Cartman could do to get him off. His hand started throbbing by the time Kyle came, but it was worth the ticket to see Kyle roll his hips and yowl beneath his fingertips knowing that he made Kyle like this. Cartman sighed in bliss when Kyle entangled around him and finally relaxed into the sheets.

So maybe cuddling wasn't _that_ bad. Maybe it was time to do a bit of a reevaluation himself.

He threatened to kick Kyle out of the house afterward if he so much as asked for sex again - which he did _two hours later_ during a round of Smash Bros.

Cartman made good on his threat and kicked him out of the house. "Don't come back until you keep it in the pants, you psycho!"

Fuck the sleepover. He actually wanted a good night's sleep for once.

"What have I done?" he asked dramatically before flopping onto his Kyle-free bed. "Ginger, Jew, Jersey, _sex fiend_? Man, I just don't know. Have I gone too far? Have I created a monster?"

Then he realized what the fuck. He was fucking Kyle. _Kyle._ It was worth all the exhaustive sex in the world. Against his better judgment, he picked up his cell because that was who he was now: a fucking sap offering himself to an insatiable Jersey demi-god for the sake of the world.

Kyle responded with three words that made Cartman's pulse quicken with something that _wasn't_ lust for once..

 _[On my way.]_

Here's to another round of copious sex he couldn't handle, but man, did it feel so fucking good to be finally wanted.


End file.
